Home on the Grange
by Rory Fluker
Summary: This is it. Ron Weasley is finally going to admit his feelings for Hermione. The story follows the thoughts of Ron, as an internal monologue. Will his head be able to steer him down the straight and narrow, or will he rush forward, blindly following his heart? The answer may surprise you.
1. Chapter 1

It was a cold winter's morning in Gryffindor Tower. The birds had hidden away deep within the Forbidden Forest, only disturbed by whatever seemed to dwell within. The sun rose slowly, melting the snow from the branches. Flooding in through a slit in the curtain, the sun illuminated the red head of Ron Weasley, who screwed up his face in sleepy annoyance. Owls hooted outside, further disallowing any chance of a lie in. Groaning with desperation, Ron flung the duvet to one side, yawning widely, his arms stretching to the heavens. He was alone, the three beds of Harry, Neville and Dean gathering dust. Each of his roommates was at their respective holiday haunts. Ron had opted to stay behind to catch up on OWL revision for January. His brothers and sister had bid him farewell a few days ago, their cheery voices still ringing in his ears. Plodding up to his bedside chair, he snatched his dressing gown off the back and slipped it on, grumbling at the cold air that had seemed through the stone walls. Hurriedly trotting downstairs, he came across a lit fire, which was presided over by Dobby the house elf. Ron yawned heavily, causing Dobby to turn around.

'Oh, Hello Ronald Weasley, sir. It's a pleasure to see you, yes it is' Dobby bowed low, his long nose brushing the threadbare carpet.

'And the same to you, Dobby' Ron replied, sleepily. 'You haven't seen anyone else around have you?'

'No, sir. Dobby has not, sir. Dobby did see Miss Granger leave to go to the Library last night and when I checked her room, her bed was empty, so it was' Dobby said. 'She must have been gone all night, she must' Ron paused at the mention of Hermione's name.

'Thank you, Dobby' Ron said, turning quickly back up the stairs. After a quick shower and hair wash, Ron reappeared, donning his usual festive sweater and made for the exit. Dobby bid farewell, as Ron lunged through, into the castle. It was evident that Ron had a little crush on Hermione. It didn't take a genius to see it. Even Hermione was aware of it, yet she made little fuss about it, seeing it as more of a phase, rather than a serious thing. This, naturally had a very adverse effect on Ron, thought being a thick skinned individual, he hardly showed his discomfort. This had only helped Hermione's ignorance of his true feelings. But he had picked his time wisely. Hermione was always here for Christmas and considering this year was OWL year, there would be no exception. Being the dashing Casanova he was, Ron would use the study session as a chance to get her on her own, confess his love and live happily ever after.

At least, that's how it went in his head.

Ron slunk into the nearly deserted Great Hall. Taking a seat on the Gryffindor table, he grabbed the nearest slice of toast, buttering it feverishly. He hadn't much time to spare, knowing Hermione was a fickle girl, who preferred to be on the move. But considering it was Christmas, he half expected her to relax. If Dobby was to be believed, he was surely mistaken. This meant his next stop was the Library, after his hasty breakfast. Not even bothering to rest the toast on his plate, Ron made for the exit, toast in hand, his front slightly dotted with crumbs. This was it, the start of one of the best days of his life. The day he finally told Hermione Granger how he felt about her. What was the worst that could happen?


	2. Chapter 2

Ron was naturally a klutz when it came to direction. He has been to Hogwarts for the best part of 5 years, but still, when it came to finding his way, he was as able as a 1st year on their starting day of lessons. The fact he was running to declare his love for Hermione may have had something to do with his dopiness, but it was to be expected by someone, especially a Weasley, who was facing a daunting task of turning his best friend into a lover. Speaking of best friends, Harry Potter clued into the infatuation around a year ago, at the Yule Ball. Considering Hermione was less than impressed when Ron never asked her, her plan was divulged to the unsuspecting Potter, who happened to overhear her sobs, prior to her engagement with Victor Krum.

Naturally, he hadn't informed Ron of this information, considering his presence had been detected by Miss Granger and his tongue sworn to secrecy. Being the middle man when Ron showed signs of jealously towards Hermione, Harry had simply been the impartial bystander, hoping against hope either party would connect. Unfortunately, there was none and now we are following a lovesick ginger boy, who happens to have the navigational skills of a slug.

Makes for a far more interesting story, that's for sure.

Despite his handicap, it only took Ron about fifteen minutes to reach the Library. A slightly alien place, he entered, sheepishly looking around at the towering book shelves. A quick look from Madame Pince assured his continued absence from the general vicinity. However, he was here on far more important business than revision. Still searching, he passed a group of 3rd years reading a copy of the Quibbler.

'I wouldn't bother' Ron muttered, as he strolled past them, earning a few bemused looks from them. Rounding a corner, he sighed. There was no one else here and considering he'd made a brilliant impression on Pince, he wasn't at liberty to stay. He made for the exit, cursing his lack mind reading. He made towards the Entrance Hall, hoping to catch her in the corridors. Again, no sign of Hermione. He was beginning to get annoyed now. She had her route she took. He'd noticed that. But today, she was breaking away from her normal routine, as if she knew something was going to happen today. Was this due to the fact she wanted something to change, or to avoid the possible upset that may ensure? His head spinning, Ronald trudged outside, still following Hermione's normal route, despite his earlier internal conflict.

The snow nestled on the ground, slowly falling from the sky, as if on a mission to bury itself in Ron's pelt. Hampering this, Ron pulled his scarf tight and plucked his hat from his coat pocket. Jamming it on roughly, he ventured further into the white blanket, his nose wrinkling at the cold bite it had upon him. The frozen lake, standing before him like a silver mirror bore no person, another setback to the Weasley. Having wasted his time, he turned around, the tips of his jeans damp and cold, despite his height and thick boots. His breath hanging before him, he hurriedly made his way back to the castle, intent on giving up for the day, willing himself to try the next day, when Hermione was less erratic.

Retracing his steps, Ron found his way back to the portrait, a cascade of water trailing him where he tread. Moving inside the warm common room, he sighed loudly, throwing his damp gloves onto a nearby chair. A slight tsk made he look to the sofa on his right. Surrounded by books, a pair of reading glasses adorning her brow, a bushy, brown haired girl gave him a small smile, looking up at him.

'Hey Ron…'


	3. Chapter 3

He froze, not wishing to seem too confident. She's here? Wow, talk about finding things in the last place you look. He stood a mute before her, as she eyed him with her usual lofty air.

'Erm…Hi Ron' She repeated, a little unsure this time.

It was now or never, man. You've got to at least make a sound! A low guttural noise came from his lips, not unlike a washing machine stuck in a cycle. Hermione giggled, looking back down at her essay.

'Dean said you were looking for me, which probably explains the sweat and the red cheeks'

If only she knew.

'H-he did?' Ron managed to stutter, secretly cursing the man. So much for being impulsive. It's not like he wanted to make a good impression or anything. 'What did he say?'

'Just that you needed a chat, or something. Sounded quite important' Hermione shrugged, flicking through her well-thumbed copy of 'Fantastic Beasts and where to find them'. Ron swore under his breath. Great, now he'd been set up. Hermione wasn't a stupid girl. Far from it, in fact. She was probably reading him as well as she read 'Hogwarts: A History'. Again, she giggled. 'You alright, Ron? You seem slightly flustered…'

Of course he was flustered. You would be too if you were standing in front of the most beautiful girl in school, who hasn't a clue that you've loved her from the moment your eyes met in that carriage of the Hogwarts Express.

'No, not at all…' He muttered, metaphorically punching himself for his deception. Hermione smirked, closing her large book and turning to face him.

'Well, you have my attention. What was it you wanted?'

You. I want you! That's all I could ever want! In this whole wizarding world of crazy jokes, amazing food and wondrous incantations, all I could ever hope for is you, Hermione Granger.

'I was…just wondering if you wanted to...perhaps…get a drink sometime or something…' Ron muttered, as expertly as he dared. Hermione raised her eyebrow at him.

'You mean, like a date?'

'No! No! Not at all!' Ron said, hastily, once again kicking himself. For once in your life, be a Gryffindor and just ask her! Hermione smiled sweetly, a slight redness dawning on her cheeks.

'I'm rather busy for the next few days. But this 'Not date' sounds great. How about Friday?' Ron froze again, trying to register her response.

'Erm….Okay!' He blurted out, trying to contain his excitement. Hermione laughed, planting a light kiss on his cheek.

'It's a 'not-date' then…' She whispered, gathering her books and parchment up, making her way to her dorm. Ron watched her robes disappear up the spiral staircase, his hand gently touching his cheek. His eyes sparkled, his heart going a million miles a second.

Hermione Granger just said yes to a date? Well….A 'Not-date', but that's still something! She even kissed me! Sure, it was on the cheek, but that's a better sign than anything. Jesus, I might pass out from the stress. He sat down, still shaking with anticipation. The arms of the chair home to his tight grip, as his teeth slowly grated together. He kept going over what had just happened, pinching himself a few times. As he never awoke from slumber, he assumed it to be real and slumped further into his chair.

'Right, I have a few days to make this count. Need to be smart, clean and…not a total headcase' He muttered, getting to his feet, collecting himself. 'She's a smart girl, she needs a smart boy!' He headed up to his dorm, for a considerable regime change.


	4. Chapter 4

Adding another five minutes to his washing schedule seemed fine to Ron. All he needed was a good haircut, a good smell and a good attitude. While he had two of the three, his hair was not cooperating with him. He tried to brush it into a side fringe, but it slid in front of his eyes every time. It was as if his hair was subconsciously personifying his overt shyness. He ended up letting it hang naturally. Considering Friday was a few days away, he needed to get into the mind frame of the 'Famous Weasley Charmer'. Harry was his helper, who had opted to contact him through the Floo Network. His burning features surveyed his attire, an eyebrow raised. He suddenly wrinkled his nose, the vast amounts of cologne breaking the fiery barrier

'Drowning in cologne is never a good thing, Ron…' Harry coughed, the overpowering smell filling his nostrils. 'Do you want to knock her out, or something?'

'At least she can't say no when she's unconscious' Ron smirked, cheekily, receiving a glare from Harry. 'I'm joking! I'll be lucky to even get a non-sexual hug from her'

'Believe me, there's nothing non-sexual about your hugs…' Harry laughed. 'It's like you're trying to get them pregnant through osmosis' Ron cocked his head, his lips pursed.

'What Osmosis?' He said, dumbfounded. Harry rolled his eyes, remembering Ron wasn't the brightest crayon in the pack.

'Why don't you ask your date?' He smirked, teasing him. 'She'll know everything that requires smarts'

'Yeah…' Ron whispered, absentmindedly, beginning to drift off into a daydream. Harry snapped him out of it, with a loud sneeze, brought on by the cologne.

'Stay focused, Ron. This is your chance, alright?' He rubbed his nose, sniffing loudly.

'H-Has Hermione told you anything about her feelings?' Ron said, looking his best friend in the eyes. Harry sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck.

'No, Ron. And if she did, I would be sworn to secrecy anyway…' Ron's expression sunk. He was working with nothing here. Sure, she had said yes, but what if it was through sympathy? As these thoughts rustled around in Ron head, Harry looked up at him, thinking to himself. 'Ginny…however…' He added, slowly and measuredly.

Ron turned to meet his gaze, his stomach turning over. 'Ginny?' He stuttered, sitting down in front of the fire, his eyes wide with anticipation.

'Yes. She and Hermione share all their secrets. You want to find anything out, talk to Ginny…' He smiled, sipping again. 'Use the brotherly charm you have to weasel it out of her…no pun intended…' He grinned, sheepishly, as Ron rolled his eyes.

'Gin doesn't tell me anything! What makes you think she'll spill this time?'

'Well, if she finds out you're finally going after Hermione, I'm sure she'll come to her senses…' Harry chuckled. Ron nodded intently.

'Where is she? I've got to ask her now…Put her on…' Harry smirked slightly.

'She's outside in the garden, with the twins. You'll have to wait a while-'

'No, Harry! Get her now!' Ron yelled, his voice echoing in the empty Common Room. Harry pulled back slightly, sighing deeply.

'Fine, but if she's angry, it's your fault, alright?' Ron nodded quickly, as Harry pulled his head out of flames, the logs settling back into their original place. Ron twiddled his thumbs for what seemed like minutes, before the fire rustled, a familiar face emerging into the fire.

'The hell do you want, Ron?' Ginny said, exasperatedly. 'You've just interrupted my Quidditch practise. So you'd better have a good reason for doing so…'

'I'm going on a date with Hermione…' Ron said, quickly, interrupting her rant. There was a silence, as Ginny's mouth was slightly agape. Suddenly, she omitted a squeal, beaming widely.

'Took you long enough, you dummy!' She said, obviously elated. 'She's been waiting for you to ask for years, Ronald!'

'R-Really? ' Ron said, excitedly, his heart beating quickly. 'She said that?'

'Of course! And to think she gave up on you…Well done, Ron!' She giggled, wiping hers eyes in relief. Ron's expression dropped at this, his eyebrow raised.

'G-Gave up on me?' Ginny stopped smiling, realising that, in her haste, she might have let slip something bad.

'Erm…Yes, she went to Hogsmede with a Hufflepuff boy a few weeks ago. They went to the Three Broomsticks, had a few drinks…' Ron began to shake his head, his eyes beginning to water. Ginny saw this and tried to remedy the situation 'But she still likes you, Ron! I know it!'

'Of course, Ginny. That's why it's a pity date! I'm too late, obviously!' He yelled, standing up, as Ginny began to stutter.

'R-Ron! No, It was a one off thing!'

'Just like me? If she can forget me so easily, I mustn't be anything special!' He cried, turning around, running off to his dorm, not looking back at the fire. Ginny bit her lip.

Great, she had single handily destroyed her brothers hopes. She needed to send an owl and fast. Hermione needed to act quickly, or Ron would be lost to her. He pulled her head out to the fire, as Harry moved into the room. Seeing her fearful face, he produced a parchment and quill, his expression fixed on her, knowing what she had to do.

'Use Hedwig. She'll get it to the Castle within the hour….' He said, softly, as Ginny took the items and began feverishly writing the situation down. She blotted the page a few times, but continued writing, sealing the page into a square envelope.

'Please hurry…' She whispered to him, handing him the letter. Harry nodded, rushing quickly to his room, rising Hedwig from a nap.

'Come on, Hedwig…This is important…' He tied the letter to her leg, lifting her out of the window. 'Get to Hermione, quickly now!' He said, softly, as the bird soared out of the window and off into the distance, her snowy wings blazing against the sunlight.


End file.
